Vive La France
by linzo98
Summary: What would have happened if the People of Paris had come to their aid? If they won the revolution? If all of the boys survived?
1. Red and Black

The schoolboys lined up at the barricade, silent, for their grief over losing Eponine was still heavy. They now realize that not all of them will live until dawn. Suddenly they see Gavroche on the other side of the barricade, collecting bullets. Combeferre cries out, but it is too late. The soldiers have seen him. A shot rings out. Everyone holds their breath. Then the ever resilient street urchin scrambles over the top of the barricade, grinning. The treacherous swine had missed his target. A battle cry rings through the cold air, and the resistance fires as one. Soldiers are falling left and right. The people of Paris, seeing a chance at victory, storm the streets, some armed, some not. The king's army does not stand a chance. The battle is over in a matter of seconds. Enjolras, smiling for the first time in days, glances around him. All of his men are accounted for. Wait… where is Grantaire?! A shot is heard, and Enjolras whips towards the sound, terrified at what he might see. But there is Grantaire, standing over the body of the man who had tried to escape. Enjolras rushes over and embraces him. They hold each other for a minute, far beyond thrilled that they have both survived this horrifying night. Marius taps Enjolras on the shoulder, and hands him their battered flag.

Gripping it, he climbs to the top of the barricade, where he shouts at the top of his voice "VIVE LA REPUBLIQUE!" And thrusts their banner in the air.

The mob cheered, for now they have a chance to be free. The boys of d'ABC climb to his side.

Grantaire, for once sober, shouts "RED! The blood of angry men!"

The rest of the boys join in on "BLACK! The dark of ages past!"

The crowd joins them. "RED! A world about to dawn! BLACK! A night that ends at last!"

The people of France hoist the boys on their shoulders, for they are heroes now. They carry them through the streets of France, still singing, tear running down their faces. The question 'do you hear the people sing?' is no longer relevant. They say that their voices could be heard all around the world that night.


	2. Put That Bottle Down, I'm Fine

*****IN THE** **CAFE*****

"Grantaire, I really can't right now." Enjolras said.

"But you've been ignoring me all day!" Grantaire exclaimed. "I thought after we won the battle you would loosen up a bit."

"Grant, now I have a country to run. France needs me more than you do."

"No it doesn't." Grantaire said quietly.

He stalked across the room and placed his hand on the doorknob, then seemed to change his mind, and turned back around.

"I love you Enjolras. You are the only reason I have to live anymore. Do you think I care about this cursed revolution?! I'm here because for years you were the only friend I ever had. You were the person who took care of me when I was drunk. You make sure I pay my rent. You care if you don't hear from me. No one else does!"

His rant finished, Grantaire snatched a bottle of red wine off the bar counter and took a swig.

"Grant," Enjolras said softly. "Put that bottle down."

Now Grantaire really did leave the tavern, taking the wine with him. Enjolras dropped into a chair with his head in his hands.

***** AT THE BARRICADE*****

"Gav, are you all right?!" A startled voice exclaimed.

Gavroche raised his head, tears streaming down his face, and saw the gentle Courfeyrac standing over him.

"I'm fine." He said in a strangled voice. "I just miss Eponine."

"We all do" Courf said sadly.

"No, you don't understand. She was my sister."

"Oh Gav I'm so sorry!" Then he sighed. "Come on, you're spending the night at my place."

"I'm fine!" Gavroche repeated, though he obviously wasn't.

"No, I insist."

Then he threw the tiny hero over his soldier like a sack of grain. For the first time since the battle, Gavorche let out a small giggle. Courf always did know just how to cheer him up.


	3. She Knew Her Way Around

*****3 Days After The Barricades Rose*****

The room was full. And silent. Completely, utterly silent. Courfeyrac, Combeferre, Marius, and Enjolras slowly processed into the room, bearing Eponine's coffin. Gavroche walked behind them, carrying a single red rose. The funeral was excruciatingly sad, but also very dull. It didn't seem like a proper send off for a girl who had been so full of life. However, the people of France wanted to pay their proper respects to their hero, the martyr, the 'flower of the revolution', as she was now being called. These same people used to sneer at her in the streets. They realized, too late, that she was the loveliest girl in the country.

After the service only the boys remained. After a minute, Gavroche stood up.

"Ep wouldn't have wanted this." He said, his voice strong even through his tears."

"I know." Marius whispered.

He blamed himself for her death.

"Well lets go to the café and have a drink then." Grantaire said.

They all stared at him in horror. How could he talk of drinking at a time like this?

"I agree." Enjolras stated, startling them all. "We shall drink to her memory."

He looked at Grantaire, but the struggling alcoholic refused to meet his gaze. They hadn't spoken since their argument. Nevertheless, they all made their way to the café. When they arrived, Marius, choking on his words, raised his glass.

"To Eponine Thenadier" He said. "She was my best friend, she could light up the room with her smile, and she never lost hope, even though life did not treat her kindly. Everyone sees her as the pretty girl who died for the cause, but I know that she was so much more than that. She was the bravest woman, no, person, I've ever met. I love he, maybe not in the way that she wanted, but I still love her with all my heart. She is the reason I'm standing here today."

"To Eponine." The boys chorused, lifting their glasses, and then gulping down the blood-red wine, hoping to drown their pain and guilt in the haze of the alcohol.


	4. The World We Longed To See

***** 1 Week Later*****

"I really don't want to do this." Courfeyrac said as he smoothed down his hair.

"None of us do, but the people see us as heroes, and they want to honor us." Enjolras replied. "They don't understand that we don't want glory. Just a free France."

Then they walked out the door of their flat, meeting the other boys outside. They all wore red, and had tricolored ribbons tied around their waists. All of them looked dashing, but Enjolras looked truly beautiful, like an angel fallen from heaven itself. His golden hair gleamed in the afternoon light, and it looked almost as if it gave off an ethereal light of its own. He looked every inch the glorious leader.

"Well, lets be off then." Joly said, breaking the silence.

They climbed aboard an open-top wagon, also adorned with red, white and blue. They were to be in a parade to honor their selfless deeds. Truthfully, they all found it a bit strange. They were still just schoolboys, after all. Boys with an unlikely dream that had become reality. As the wagon started moving, they were greeted with the cheers of thousands. They waved awkwardly, and had tentative smiles on their faces. But Grantaire was really enjoying himself. He hadn't been in this good a mood since before the battle. He bowed with a flourish to the adoring crowd, grinning from ear to ear., and waving eagerly. A large group of pretty young women threw handfuls of red roses towards the wagon, and R caught won, blowing generous amounts of kisses towards the source. More than one of the ladies swooned, though R was far from the most attractive of the bunch.

"Apparently being a hero makes you more appealing." Jean Prouvaire said. "Not one moon ago those fair maidens would have scoffed at your mere presence."

"Now is not the time for pretty words." R said. "I've been a pessimist all my life, but I'm determined to enjoy myself today."

The rest of the boys relaxed a bit. After all, what harm could a little parade do? Gavroche smirked at his friends who stared at him in awe. He had always been their leader, but now he had been elevated to the status of a god in their eyes. He was about to shout something to them, but then a shot was heard, and one of the men on the wagon fell. A woman in the crowd quickly apprehended the shooter, and hit him soundly on the head with a rolling pin, knocking him unconscious. The boys huddled around the fallen man, who was none other than Grantaire, who had been determined to have a good day. He smiled weakly up at his friends.

"Am I in heaven, for I see Gabriel before me." He said, his voice soft yet steady.

Enjolras gripped his hand and muttered "Don't leave me."

R sighed. "Do not worry, fair Apollo. I shall not die today."


	5. And Rain, Will Make the Flowers

**AN: Ummm... hi. You probably hate me right now. I haven't updated either of my stories in ages. I'm sorry, I just couldn't come up with anything, everything I wrote was absolute trash. I know I left you on an awful cliffhanger, and I'm sorry. This isn't the best chapter I've ever written, but hopefully it resolves some things.**

The boys stood silent, waiting for instructions. Enjolras always knows what to do. He always takes the lead. But this time he doesn't. He's clinging to Grantaire's hand, his eyes red and glistening with- wait- could those be tears? The great marble champion of the oppressed is crying. Les Amis avert their eyes. They cannot handle this.

"EVERYONE OUT OF THE WAY!" Courfeyrac shouts, taking charge.

He jumps off the wagon, gesturing for the rest of the revolutionaries to follow. They pull it towards the hospital, with only Enjolras and Grantaire remaining on it. Gavroche leads the rest of the street urchins in clearing a path. The crowd parts like the red sea, but the are all desperately craning to get a glimpse of which boy has fallen

A voice is heard from the back of the crowd:

"It's Grantaire!"

The women who had been falling over themselves moments before burst into tears.

Les Amis finally arrived at the hospital, and Joly helped the doctors tend to R. Bahorel and Feuilly had to pry Enjolras off of him. He was no longer crying, but was frozen, truly like marble now. They went to the Musain and drank. A lot. They had no qualms about drinking over R like they had with Eponine. HE would have wanted them to drink. They prayed constantly that soon he would be drinking with them. Enjolras downed 4 glasses of red wine before Combeferre dragged him home. Sweet Jehan cries quietly into his paisley cravat. Bossouet trips on the worn wooden step that he falls on every time, but the usual laughter and exchanging of bets doesn't follow. This was not the utopia they had dreamed the uprising would bring.

***** AT THE HOSPITAL*****

Grantaire woke in a strange room in a strange bed with a strange face looming over his.

"Well, look who's finally awake." The man said kindly.

"Who are you?!" He asked. Alarmed, he tried to push himself up, but fell back with a cry.

"Grantaire!" A familiar voice called. Joly rushed in, tears of joy running down his face.

"He just awoke." The stranger explained.

"Joly!" R exclaimed groggily. "Where am I?"

"You're at the hospital. You were shot at the parade." The stranger replied. It dawned on him that the old man was probably a doctor. "Do you remember that?"

"Vaguely." R said, wincing.

"Well you were hit in your left arm." He continued. "It will scar, but you will most likely make a full recovery, as long as it didn't chip the bone. We extracted the bullet without too much difficulty."

"I must go tell Enjolras!" Joly cried. "He's been a mess since you were shot!"

Grantaire bid his friend goodbye, but he had a strange smile on his face. Enjolras cared about him!


	6. Wihout Me, His World Will Go On Turning

**AN: What?! 2 updates in 1 day!? This never happens! I absolutely adore this next chapter, so I hope you do too. Please review though! I have over 800 reads, but only 7 comments, and I really want some feedback. Thanks, and enjoy!**

"Grantaire, it's good you're awake, you had us worried for a minute there." Enjolras stated, his tone almost painfully distant and formal.

"Did you miss me, Apollo?" R asked teasingly, his voice quavering an almost imperceptible amount.

"Of course. I hate to see any of my comrades in pain, and we need your input to plan the new government. Well, I'd better be off to do just that. Good day, Grantaire, and I wish you a full and speedy recovery." With that, he promptly turned and left.

R stared at the door longingly for a moment, and then let out an anguished wail, dissolving into tears. Joly rushed into the room as the speed of sound.

"What's wrong? Are you in pain? Have your stiches come loose? Are you going to be sick? Please don't be sick. Please oh please oh please don't be sick. Oh I'd better fetch a bucket. Oh dear Lord this is a nightmare!" Joly spouted as he ran around the tiny hospital room, wringing his hands and tutting.

"Tis only my soul that hurts." R said drearily, raising his head from his tear-soaked pillow, his eyes wet and his once luscious ebony curls in disarray.

"Oh dear, is that what I sound like?" Jean Prouvaire asked quietly as he stepped into the room. The rest of Les Amis have arrived and the small infirmary is now full to the brim.

"What are you crying about?" Bahorel asked gruffly. He really did care about the man, he just didn't' particularly like feelings.

The patient sighed. "Enjolras doesn't care." The rest of the boys nodded sympathetically. The cynic's affinity for their leader was no secret, though he tried to hide it.

"You obviously didn't see him crying then." Courfeyrac said, smiling warmly.

"He- he cried... for me?" Grantaire stuttered.

"He cried like a newborn babe!" Feuilly added, catching on. A little exaggeration couldn't hurt, right?

By the time the revolutionaries left, Grantaire was grinning from ear to ear.

**AN: Hmmm... e/R or no e/R? Who knows? You don't! I don't even think I know! You'll just have to keep reading to find out! I have some massive plot twists in store. MWAHAHAHAH!**


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